Liars and Saints

 I thought there was wisdom in spacing my two children apart--but, because of some developmental delays, I really feel that I have a pair of "terrible twos" right now. The tantrums seem symphonic; something happens in the woodwinds, then the brass section does its own thing. In these moments, I find myself asking, "What would Peter Krause do?" Krause is the star of the series "Parenthood"; he gives a subtle, smart performance, and he is often better than the intermittently syrupy writing. Krause has a chaotic household; he has to dig deep for something that resembles self-control. He reminds me of Pamela Adlon, in "Better Things"--another unusually honest portrait of domestic life. I had a weird encounter at the playground. (And I think "Encounters at the Playground" may become the title of my memoir.) I was talking to an awkward neighbor-dad about fits of rage. He was recalling that his daughter had just had a volcanic meltdown because...

 This is for you if you watched the finale of "Better Things," and you found yourself becoming a trembling puddle of tears. You know who you are. One of Pamela Adlon's many gifts is the ability to identify great peripheral characters and bring them to the center. I'm not sure Adlon ever dreamed of making Xander prominent (in early days) -- but Xander's difficulties became compelling, and Adlon wisely pursued Xander's story in the middle seasons. Lenny was a blip on our radar, for a while, and then she began to suffer through an especially painful divorce -- and so, for a year, she was given a chance to step down-stage. This current season, the standout was Caroline. We hadn't seen much of her. You know Caroline; she exists in your own life. Maybe you *are* Caroline. Caroline is the person so fragile, when her crazy mother-in-law complains about a chandelier in earthquake-plagued L.A., she can't simply laugh it off. She must instead say, "Who told ...

 Months ago, Anne Lamott wrote a memorable attack on Mother's Day; one of Lamott's observations was that the day randomly puts a mom on a pedestal, "when, in fact, I was mostly raised by my neighborhood's gay men." I think of this in relation to "Better Things"; it's not that Mom has disappeared, but Dad clearly has, and a great deal of parenting work gets shifted to Sam Fox's "gay husband," Rich.  I didn't realize, early on, that Rich would have a major role. I recall that he dates a very young man at one point, and he has his heart broken, and he fights with Sam because Frankie's disappearance requires too much "emotional energy." In happier moments, Sam urges Rich to "go back to writing." Then, when the show really confronts the issue of the missing dad, Rich assumes a lead-character status. One wonderful scene has the actual dad forgetting Rich's name; Rich smiles, with rage, and says, "I just wa...

  A character I love this year is Frankie, Sam's brilliant middle child in "Better Things." Frankie can give endless displays of compassion to her grandmother, but can't find any time for her mother. (It's nutty that Frankie wants Sam to show more patience to Phil, when Frankie herself can't show any patience to Sam.) Frankie's great wish is for independence. This is seen again and again: Frankie won't have a bat mitzvah, but will design a "batcenera," blending cultures; Frankie won't accept that a pink sparkly cell phone is a "girl's" cell phone ("it's Rip Taylor's cell phone"); Frankie stage-manages a first sexual encounter in an awkward setting ("because I didn't want to be passive, I didn't just want some guy to show up and take this from me")..... We can imagine Frankie spending hours with Google, obtaining life skills that are foreign to everyone else in her family. ("How do I c...

  "Better Things" returns for Season Five in a few weeks; Marc and I are partway through Season Four. If you're a fan, please continue.... This is a show about a "matriarchal dystopia" (according to one of the characters).  Phil, a British expat, lives near her daughter, Sam, and Sam's own three daughters, in Los Angeles. The clan of five talk and bicker--and the talk is often about sex, or pooping. (Sam resents helping her daughter to arrange a hook-up in a motel; Sam purchases a new maximum-strength toilet; Sam's youngest daughter believes that her period is the result of having been hit by a car.) Certain stories recur. Sam is unhappy with her Hollywood career, which requires her to "re-audition" for once-guaranteed roles, negotiate a tug-of-war between agents, and defer to an airhead from a younger generation.  Sam's mother, Phil, resists aging; she bathes nude in a neighbor's pool, uninvited, and she drives a car even when she know...

In its third season, "Better Things" features a journey. Pamela Adlon is free of Louis CK, and Sam is sort of free of her oldest daughter, Max. The Max-starts-college transition was typically brutal. Max had demands for the graduation party: one keg, Absentee Dad would get a special role, Mom would not show her face.  Sam--Mom--signed the paperwork, but then she hid with her own mother (Phil) across the street, just to watch the party. Phil (the outstanding Celia Imrie) stared at Max and whispered, "That kid will be pregnant within the next few weeks." And this was how Max's "California phase" drew to a close. The show's brilliance is in tiny moments--noticing things many writers fail to notice. When Sam's antagonist, her ex-husband, betrays the kids in a particularly awful way, he quickly reframes himself as a victim: "Sam, you're judging me. I can hear you judging me. But you know what? People do what they need to do. And maybe you d...

 Our TV life seems to have three planes, these days. Plane One: Uneven crime dramas. I found "The Fall" occasionally exasperating, though I liked Gillian Anderson. "Tommy" gives us Edie Falco, but the screenwriters seem to have mistaken their assignment for a job writing Hallmark cards. Plane Two: "Better Things." Both Marc and I feel awe for this show. A recent episode was a highpoint: One child seems to be flirting with the idea of coming out as transgender, though the process is messy and mysterious, and not at all like an after-school special. In another part of the house, Sam Fox attempts clandestine sexting while using her spare hand to fill her daughter's lunch-box with Fritos. There is also some stunning advice, from an adult to a teen: "Los Angeles is full of guys I've blown. You just have to charge through the next cafe encounter, wear a smile. Otherwise, you'll find you just stop leaving your house." Plane Three: Kennedy Ce...

  A favorite character of mine, right now, is the fictional actor Sam Fox, played by Pamela Adlon, on "Better Things." Adlon almost won the Emmy--twice--for this role. The show itself recently ranked among the top comedies of this current century, according to the NYTimes. Sam Fox has a crazy British mother--one of the lost souls from "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel"--and she has three needy daughters. The father is basically not around. In one of the show's great scenes, the father pops up to say he will be taking a job in the neighborhood, for the summer, a very high-profile job. Fox reasonably believes the guy is making this announcement because he wants to request more time to spend with the kids. The guy clears his throat. Actually, this request is *not* the purpose of the dinner. The guy doesn't want to spend *any* time with the kids, and he fears bumping into them while on the job, and he just wants his ex to invent a diplomatic way to tell the kids t...

 My child's first school experience is about to begin, and I feel a bit like the character "Louie." I know Louis CK is a monster, etc., but as the NYT observed this summer, the show "Louie" remains a major achievement. It's something I think about on an almost daily basis (especially because my husband and I are watching Pamela Adlon's great video-memoir, "Better Things," which shares DNA with the Greenwich Village Comedy Cellar). In one of my favorite "Louie" moments, the protagonist attends a PA meeting. The parents are upset because the children seem mysteriously sleepy after lunch. Solutions are proposed. More outdoor-recess time! Stimulating new math lessons! Gluten-free dining options! Louie tentatively asks: "Aren't the kids seemingly sleepy because.....school sucks?" There's silence. "I mean....We all remember that, right? School sucks?" I thought of this as I read Joshua's long (quite long!) li...

 In the abstract, a hospital is like Oz, a well-run world unto itself, a place where great things, great acts of healing, can occur. But, if you live for a few weeks in a hospital, then you see the man behind the curtain. In my car, I have a thermos that says: "Gundersen Hospital, Keep Calm and Mom On." It doesn't matter that I'm not a mom, and moms are absent from my home. No one at Gundersen really wrestled with the idea of "alternative families," and the harried twentysomething who shoved the thermos at me must have thought: "Free shit. Of course they'll accept it." (This conclusion was accurate!) Toward the end of my stay, I was asked to watch a series of educational videos, so that I would not (a) shake my baby to death, (b) ignore signs of choking, or (c) drive my child around with her body unbuckled, dangling from the passenger-side window of the car. These videos were like bad pornography. An actor--without affect--would murmur, "O...